


Dreaming

by InsaneJul



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Dreams, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Love, Love Confessions, Memories, Old Age, Old Friends, Past Love, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8754517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJul/pseuds/InsaneJul
Summary: I had a dream where you were here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Actually got an inspiration for this from a genyatta fanart, and I wanted to to cover many overwatch ships (including my robot boys) but then it just became pure Anahardt angst. This ship deserves way more love!

             I had a dream where you were here. It’s nothing new, of course; I think about when we were together far too much. But just today I had this dream.

            Remember when your little girl used to play with me? She would touch my weapon with awe in her eyes and reverence in her fingertips. I loved her and she loved me. Today she is an adult who looks at me and knows she has become just what she wanted to be. But I cannot let go of that little girl with posters on her wall and stars in her eyes. Wanting to be just like you. Wanting to be just like me. You left her, too.

            In my dream you were carrying her on your shoulders just like she loved. She was laughing, and glowing, and your smile conveyed all the love your heart had to give.  I am not quite sure if it was a dream or just a memory. Would it be fair to say I miss the old days? I suppose so, but I do not ever want to be the sort of person who lives in the past. No, after everything, I went off on my own, met a friend, kept up everything I believed in.  I cannot pretend that I didn’t miss you. But there are more important things in life than what our hearts are searching for.

            Remember the late nights you used to spend with me? We would listen to old music and laugh about how the others didn’t get it. You’d sip tea and lean against me, and I would pretend that it didn’t make me feel warm and complete. To this day I am certain that part of you knew. The words wouldn’t come, but I always wanted to say what I felt for you on nights like that. In the end, when you were gone, I regretted everything I couldn’t say. But that wouldn’t surprise you, I’m sure.

            In my dream you asked me to put on a kettle to boil, and I knew you’d come join me once you’d put the little girl to bed. The warmth that bloomed in my heart when you would come was unmatched by anything anyone could do for me. Your presence was more than enough, and I’ve lacked it for far too long. They say time heals any wound, but if I still dream of you after twenty years I don’t think I’ve healed quite enough.

            Remember the way you used to tease Jack? He often deserved it, of course—he behaved like he was older than us! We may not have been more competent but we were wiser; well, at least you were. I’d have followed you to the ends of the earth with no prompting, secure in the knowledge that you knew what you were doing. Then you made one mistake—just one—and everything was over, all at once.

            In my dream you met my eye with both of your own. Back in the days when they were radiant and brown, not when I saw you lying there, one eye missing completely, the other full of shadow and nothing else. Last night, you were there with lips upturned and your hands holding the little girl in place on your shoulders. There was never a more beautiful sight in all the world.  I could have said—I _should_ have said—

            But of course, I didn’t say what I wanted to, and you don’t remember anything. You can’t remember anything, dead people usually don’t. After nights like that I play the “what if?” game for just a little while—give myself a moment to imagine all the things I could have done, all the things you and I could have been. That cannot last, because it can never be true, so I stop playing the game and get up and pretend as though nothing has happened. After you, my heart wears armor, too. It’s because of you I give my love to everyone, and because of you I express it freely, but I still hide you away from myself. If I hope for anything, it’s that new love will cover up the hole yours left.

            I had a dream where you were here, but it’s nothing new, since all that imagining is meant to fill the gaping section of my heart. You were carrying your little girl on your shoulders, and her laughter still echoes in my ears, laughter I don’t hear enough anymore. You smiled up at me and to this day nothing makes me feel the way your smile did. You asked me to boil a kettle for you and I wandered into the kitchen looking for one until I remembered you were gone, and everything was over, and it had been for an unbearable amount of time. If you were still around, me loving you all this time would make sense. But I ask myself why I still go on like this—it’s only because there is no other way for me to be.

            For me, the only way to be is in love with you. Even now. Even after losing you. Even after holding your sobbing daughter in my arms after your funeral. Even after watching our friends die. Even after running from all of it with a young girl I couldn’t pretend didn’t remind me of your girl. It’s easy to hold myself to my principles and it’s easy to stay myself despite that pain, because you were simply part of me, and even without you, the rest remains.

            I had a dream where you were here, and I didn’t want to wake from it. But I did, and I went on with my life, like I do every other morning I wake from dreams of you.


End file.
